Lost and Found (4 page)

From her talks with him, she knew
Jacob believed the public education system needed a serious overhaul, with credible therapy and trained aids who understood each child’s individual needs, instead of the present
“
cookie cutter
”
therapy
thinking
—one size fits all. But sadly
,
politics, unions,
and
reporting lines came before the best interest of the child. As the commander and chief of this elementary school
,
the staff reported to Jacob, except Mrs. Johnson.
The
Special Needs department reported to the district head office. And there was little Jacob could do about her attitude other than continuing to override her decisions.

Maggie wasn’t sure what to do
as
she gazed into his dark eyes.
Gray
tinged the sides of his dark brown hair, which actually made him appear sexier. The lines around his eyes and slightly tanned complexion linked him to his Mediterranean ancestry. He was tall at
six feet two
and was
wearing a short sleeved
,
baby blue dress shirt with a red silk tie.

Maggie opened her mouth to break the silence. “Ahh….” That was it
.
The sum of any intelligent response she could muster.
Maggie glanced at Jean and Angie standing behind Mrs. Johnson.
Mrs. Johnson crossed her arms and squinted down
at
Maggie, her rosy lips a tight thin line. But all Maggie could see was the woman’s heavy eyebrows that appeared
as if
it was
one thi
c
k caterpillar.

“Am I interrupting something?” Jacob’s tone was quiet but firm, more a statement than a question.
Maggie jumped
, and
again fac
ed
Jacob just as h
e swept his flattened hand past Jean, Angie
,
and
her
,
looking
at each of the
m
in turn
.
He
t
hen directed what appeared to be his stern principal gaze
on Mrs. Johnson. “I presume you’re ensuring these ladies are receiving the assistance they need?” One of his dark eyebrows raised
giving
a look that demanded an answer.

A telltale pink
colored
Mrs. Johnson
’s
round cheeks. Her curt nod was awkward as she crossed her arms over her large chest. Tension nipped the cool sterile air. Maggie’s underarms
were damp as she waited
for
panicked confession
s
from Jean and Angie. It
had been
Maggie’s idea.
“
Let’s have a meeting, power in numbers. We’ll confront her with our issues and the lack of support for the kids
.
”
She
imagined the
ir
confession
.

Each of their kids needed support at school, Jean
’
s son
,
Adam
,
was diagnosed with Asperger’s, ADHD, with Mild Intellectual Disability, falling just above the acceptable limits for the school,
so he did
not
qualify for
full
child support. Angie’s adopted daughter
,
Sammy
,
has
FAS
,
Fetal Alcohol Syndrome
. Maggie’s son
,
Ryley
,
was just a typical boy unable to grasp auditory teaching in the large class.
If
you asked him what the teacher said
,
what he learned today
,
his
response was always the same. “I don’t know.”

She imagined the cruel hardened
accusation
form
ing
in Mrs. Johnson’s eyes.
Why are you here? You have no right to be here with these parents. Ryley doesn’t qualify for services
.
Lily would have—she was
autistic
. So again why are you wasting my time?

A desperate fight stoked deep inside Maggie. She understood now what was at stake for these parents. Early intervention was key. Why hadn’t she seen that with Lily? This obsession to help others is what kept her sane now. Every day she fixated on what she could have done different. If she would have done something
,
would Lily be here in this school today?

Her mind drifted a lot these days. But when she looked
back at
Jacob
, he
crossed his arms and focused his sternest principal gaze on her.
She didn’t know how long he’d watched her.
Then as if she was a recalcitrant child, he ordered
,
not asked
,
“Maggie
,
I’ll speak with you in my office, now.”

Maggie glanced at Jean and Angie before following Jacob. When they rounded the corner of the single story
,
typical
sterile school hall, he slowed his pace and stepped beside her
in
to his office, closing the door behind them.

“Take a seat.” He gestured to one of two chairs in front of his desk.

Maggie’s insides withered. She tried to swallow past the golf
ball-
size
d
lump wedged in her throat. Her hands trembled
,
so she clasped them together and wedged them between her knees.

Jacob smiled warmly
,
kindly
,
as he rested his forearms on the desk.

“Do you want to explain to me what that was all about?

Her breath fogged on this cold and unusually clear day in early December. The icy chill barely penetrated past an ache that felt as if it shredded her insides. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as a single tear fell.
Breath
e
in and out.
She really tried but nothing would ease the hurt. With her shoulders pulled inward
,
she hurried to her rusted blue
Topaz
. Her eyes hurt, swollen from the tears she thought had long since passed. All that unreconciled agony she’d shoved and locked away flooded all of her senses—all because of Jacob’s kind words.

Maggie slammed her door. “No, No.” She hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand, to change the hurt to a physical one—a real one she could deal with.
Then she
fought to bottle back the agony. Today was not the day she’d face it.

Jacob was a kind man. His gentle eyes never left hers
,
and she’d be a fool to miss how her feelings mattered to him. The meeting was swift
,
and even Maggie was aware Jacob could see through the charade and her new motto
—
just do it.

In the end
,
she listened quietly as he reminded her to watch her P’s and Q’s, especially when dealing with district personnel.
Then
he did it. The reminder she hadn’t wanted. “So how are you really doing
,
Maggie?”

A jagged knife
ripped
open the tender wound. Except from Jacob, it wasn’t pity. And with him there was no avoidance.
She knew he
genuinely
cared
.

The first day of this school year for Ryley and the days following
,
Jacob
had
simply touch
ed
her shoulder. “If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away.” Jacob, a passionate school principal, her friend
,
and children’s advocate, and he’d been there the day they’d buried Lily.

Holding onto the wheel of the car, she slumped as the overwhelming grief tore with viscous claws through her chest. She struggled and gasped for breath while hammering those walls back up, sealing the pain back where it needed to go. How
,
in one single genuine moment
,
had he managed to knock it down?

“How could he?”
I am
stronger than this,
she chanted to herself as she quickly
shoved
on her dark sunglasses
,
hiding
her
tear stained eyes. “Suck it up, come on, come on
,
come on. You can do it.” Her determined pep talk helped to refocus her thoughts. And maybe one day soon, she’d experience the day her heart would break just a little bit less.

The old
Topaz
spurted and shuttered as she drove home. The rusted out muffler
,
held on by wires, vibrated and shook the floor inside the car. Her ears were buzzing from the loud rumbling, which she supposed announced her arrival from blocks away. “Sorry.” She winced and waved to her elderly neighbors who frowned as she passed before pulling into her driveway. Necessary repairs were fast approaching critical, but on Maggie’s budget
,
not even
an
oil change would happen right now.

She blinked as she stood outside her average box style house and stared at the front door
.
She
turned
and look
ed back
at
the
faded blue car
,
realizing she couldn’t remember the route she
’d
driven
home. How many times over this last year had she done this?

A familiar scratch and whine yanked Maggie from her funk. She fumbled in her bag for keys while Daisy barked and scratched at the door. Maggie’s best friend and companion
,
who shared her deepest pain without judgment
,
unconditionally and always there,
was
a
black and white dog with golden highlights—a
sheepdog, lab, retriever,
and
a few other unmentionable mixes thrown in. The all
American
mutt. Not much of a watch dog, but for what she lacked
,
she made up for in spades
with
comfort, trust
,
and loyalty. Ten months ago
,
Maggie drove to the SPCA
.
At
the time
,
she didn’t know why she
’d
stopped. But when she saw Daisy lying quiet, rejected
,
and unresponsive in that tiny cage
,
she knew she couldn’t leave without her. Even the girl at the counter was shocked when Maggie specifically asked for the old dog. And the lady asked her
three times
if she was sure she wanted a geriatric dog—one slated to be put down the end of the week. Maggie was convinced the dog was sent to her. From the first day when those blue days hit
,
when she couldn’t get out of bed
,
Daisy stayed with her.

Maggie opened the door. “You need to go outside?” Daisy barked and pranced in front of Maggie and
then
raced to the back door, which opened into a small fenced yard. Daisy was quick in her old age
,
the way she darted out into the cold,
and
then rushed back in. “It’s too cold for you
,
sweetheart?” The dog yipped in agreement. She patted the dog’s head and wandered into the open kitchen to brew a hot coffee. The message light flashed on her
cordless
phone.

She didn’t plan on returning anyone’s call, but she replayed the messages.

“Just checking to see how you’re doing Maggie, call me.” Her mom
,
at times
,
was irritating
with
how
she kept calling
,
and when she was in town
,
dropping by unannounced. But
that was in the beginning, after Lily died
,
and thankfully over the last few months,
was decreasing
.

The second message was from Richard, her soon to be ex
.
“I’m picking up Ryley from school today and keeping him through the weekend.”

Maggie shut her eyes and pressed her fingers to her forehead when a heavy fog of confusion muddled her thoughts. Then finally
,
her memory clicked, today was Tuesday. She blinked again. Or had she lost another week? She shuffled through the stack of papers, bills, overdue notices for her calendar.